


Where's My Shirt?

by zoeleigh



Series: What Help Can I Give? [4]
Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Anxiety, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Mental Illness, Panic Attacks, Roomates, Self-Harm, mental health
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-17
Updated: 2017-01-17
Packaged: 2018-09-18 06:27:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9372254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zoeleigh/pseuds/zoeleigh
Summary: Reader-insert is frantically trying to find their shirt. Tyler tries to help.(soz for the crap summary)





	

You don’t know why, but you’re fixated on this one shirt. This one shirt that you cannot find. No matter how hard you look. It’s not in it’s assigned drawer, it’s not on the floor in a pile of other clothes, it’s not in the laundry basket you rarely use other than to hang things on. It’s nowhere. Normally, that wouldn’t be a problem. You could just throw on another shirt but today is different. Your brain keeps telling you that it’s not gonna be okay unless you have this specific shirt to wear. You’re not even doing anything special, you’re just walking out of your room to eat dinner with your two roommates, Tyler and Josh. You know they won’t care. It’s not like you’ve ever had a specific dress code created and this shirt was specifically designated for this night. No. You just really, really cannot fathom leaving this room without that shirt.

 

You’ve turned your whole room upside down, you know you’ll pay for that later with rushes of panic and obsession, but your shirt is still no where to be found. It has to be here somewhere. Shirts don’t just grow legs and walk away as they say. So, logically speaking, you know it has to be here, in this room, somewhere because you haven’t moved it. You sit down on the dark blue comforter coating your bed and try to calm down. You grab a stim toy and push it around your fingers while simultaneously taking deep, full breaths. Desperately attempting to calm yourself down before you have a panic attack. Desperately trying to not have Tyler or Josh find you crying in the corner again. Of course they’re always understanding, they both have panic attacks themselves, but the pitying look they give isn’t any less severe because so. You start to hope and plead that they’ve forgotten about dinner, or that they’ll forget to call you to the table. But you know better than to let those thoughts run rampant. The couple knows you have trouble with self care, especially remembering to eat. 

 

A few seconds later, you slip back into hyperventilating with an ever increasing heart rate. You hop off of your bed and start to frantically tear through everything in your room once more. This time, you’re much less careful. Almost definitely knocking over a few things in your panicked state. This time, you’re sure either Josh or Tyler will come running in. You can feel the hot tears fall down your cheeks and the uneasiness in your chest grow. 

 

“Come on, come on, come on!” 

 

The words come out much louder than intended. Oh yeah, someone is definitely gonna come in soon. Except your brain isn’t focusing on that, it’s trapped in the mindset of doing anything to find this shirt. The shirt which you can’t even remember anything about, you just know that you’ll recognize it as soon as you see it. You almost throw another drawer down before you see a pencil sharpener for your colored pencils sitting on the floor. You know it's not rational, you want to scream no. But the panic rules over you and you frantically grab at the tool, trying to twist at the screw to get it out. You know it doesn’t make sense -you know it, you know it, you know it- but no. This will help. It has to. You’ll get the blade out and everything will make sense. 

 

Tears continue to roll down your face with exasperated sobs flying out of your mouth. You just can’t get the screw out. Your finger can’t get it twisted enough, not enough grip for you to grab with. So you hit it on the floor, maybe you’ll whack it out or the fragile plastic will snap. When that doesn’t work, you try to just fit your skin inside the opening for pencil shavings to fall out of. But then Tyler runs in. Concern is etched within the soft layers of his tan face. He looks at your face then his eyes dart to the pencil sharpener in your hands. Hysterical cries slip out of your mouth as Tyler leans down to take the sharpener from you.He sets it down then wraps you in a hug. 

 

“What’s wrong?”

 

“I, uh, uh I couldn’t find the t-shirt I wanted to wear.”

 

Tyler looks around examining the current state of your room. His arms stay wrapped around you still. He rubs your back softly and rocks you back and forth knowing that it calms you down sometimes. The tears on your face begin to dry up as no more have joined them; Tyler’s shirt is a little wet where your head was resting but you’re sure it’s fine. After you’re breathing normally again, Tyler loosens up his grip and you pull your head back. He sits down right in front of you. Tyler must notice the tangle toy you were playing with earlier because next thing, he is grabbing it and placing it in your hands. 

 

“Which shirt is it that you've been looking for?”

 

“My uh, my aquarium shirt.”

 

You can tell that Tyler wants to make a joke, try to make the situation a little bit more light hearted, but you know that he doesn’t want to make the situation worse because doing that very well could. 

 

“Do you want me to help you look for it?”

 

You only nod back a yes, not quite believing you have the ability to speak again without tears pouring out. 

 

“Okay, well where can I start? I see you’ve already gone through a lot of your stuff, but you maybe missed it.”

 

You point over the corner and Tyler makes his way over there to investigate. 

 

It goes on for a while like this, Tyler asking where else and you pointing an answer. But you can see that Tyler is beginning to give up, he won’t say it, but you can see it in his tired, hungry eyes. He comes and sits down across from you as he checks the last possible place it could be hiding.

 

“Hey, could it possibly be in the laundry room?”

 

Your eyes light up, you never thought of that. You did wear it last week and maybe you left it in the bathroom or something and Josh or Tyler took it to wash.

 

“Yeah, maybe.”

 

“Well, let’s go look. Shall we?”

 

Tyler extends his hand to you which you graciously accept. The walk to the laundry room is quick and as soon as you walk in, you see the grey shirt poking out between the plastic lines of the basket. You rush over and yank it out. Without thought, you run straight to your room and throw the freshly washed shirt on. When you finish changing, Tyler is outside of your room with his lips pressed on Josh’s. 

 

“Oh my god you guys! You have a bedroom for a reason.”

 

All three of you just laugh.

 

~~~

 

After dinner, Tyler and Josh help you to return your room to it’s normal state then the three of you fill the apartment with music, calming you down completely, before heading off to bed. (You’re pretty sure you hear Tyler and Josh going at it in their room a little ways down from yours.)

**Author's Note:**

> guys, I'm sorry I've been gone so long. you know that good ole depression and shiz.... but yeah, sorry. I hope this makes up for it I guess... kind of, maybe not. 
> 
> anyways, i'm hoping to write more of these soon lol. i think i have a request or two on my last one so I'll almost definitely be writing that soon.
> 
> and just an fyi (that no one wanted) this kind of happened to me the other night. i wanted to put on my tøp shirt before dinner bc idk but i couldn't find it and freaked out. i ended up going to dinner in a taylor swift shirt instead and found the tøp shirt right after in the laundry room. but i was all frazzled at dinner and felt like crying so....


End file.
